Beacon
by blasttyrant
Summary: Torwen was not naive to the evils residing in Middle Earth. When the One Ring is brought before her uncle at the Last Homely House, she feels bound to assure its demise. When an old friend joins their quest, she manages to find light within the darkness that looms. Tenth Walker, Legolas/OC pairing, rating may change to M later.
1. The Beginning

**I've had this in mind for YEARS. Please bear with me as I update, I have a one year old daughter and livestock to care for. But I have a passion for all things Tolkien and want to see this done.**

 **As many authors are want to do, I have fiddled a bit with timelines and taken a few artistic liberties with dialogue. Nothing that should make any huge differences in the overall plot of the original works, but enough that some readers may take pause.**

 **That said, while I adore the books with every fiber of my being, this fic will more closely follow the movies. The movies simply allow more freedom for character insertion and alterations, as well as being easier to follow for most folks.**

 **Please leave me a review and let me know what you think.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters or plotlines created by Tolkien, or depicted by Peter Jackson on screen. I only own any OCs within the story and any non canon events depicted in this story.**

Torwen was visiting her uncle and cousins in Imladris when the council was called. Messengers were sent with haste to all great kingdoms of Middle Earth.

She had been sparring with her cousins, Elladan and Elrohir, in the training grounds when Glorfindel galloped into the courtyard atop Asfalof. As she and the twins turned at the commotion, Torwen was startled to see a hobbit slumped in front of him.

The elleth shared a startled glance with her cousins when the Balrog Slayer called for healers. All three of them quickly made their way down the stone stairs from the training ground to the paved courtyard, Elrohir taking the great white horse's reigns as he danced in place, allowing Glorfindel to hand the the dark haired hobbit down to Elladan before dismounting the horse himself.

Elladan immediately took off for the houses of healing while his brother led Asfalof away to the stables. Torwen strode alongside Glorfindel, noting that he looked quite ruffled.

"Glorfindel? What has happened?" Torwen demanded, shaken by the sickly grey pallor to the hobbit's skin.

"He was struck by a morgul blade. Where is your uncle?"

"Surely he is in his study."

"Go and fetch him for me, little one." The blonde elf requested urgently, a slight brush of his hand against her arm the only encouragement necessary.

Torwen had run then hitching up her skirts in great fistfuls in front of her, her footsteps nearly silent through the open air halls of the Homely House. Her uncle had looked surprised indeed to see the look of fright on her usually jovial face.

"Torwen?" Elrond began, rising from his seat behind his desk.

The elleth cut him off before he could ask more.

"Come uncle. Glorfindel has just returned with a halfling. He was struck with a morgul blade. I fear the worst for him."

Elrond was around his desk and towards the door in an instant. Turning back to his niece before crossing the threshold to request she gather his healing herbs and tonics before hurrying to the healing rooms.

After many hours of determined and exhausting work by Lord Elrond, his sons, and niece, it was determined that the hobbit, who Torwen now knew was old Bilbo Baggins nephew Frodo, would survive.

Frodo had carried the One Ring at the request of Gandalf, who had arrived in the valley just before the four elves had concluded their healing work over the young hobbit. When the wizard asked after Frodo's companions, Glorfindel had confirmed that three more of the small folk traveled now towards Rivendell with the ranger, Aragorn.

"The ring cannot stay here, Gandalf." Lord Elrond argued imperiously, causing the wizened man before him to sigh dejectedly.

They had retired to Lord Elrond's study after a final examination of the young hobbit, the three younger elves taking weary respite on the cushioned chairs near the open windows, basking in the warm sunlight that bathed the room.

"Call for council, let the free peoples of Middle Earth decide it's fate." Gandalf suggested, leaning slightly upon his staff.

Her uncle studied the wizard for a moment, considering the situation. Finally he nodded curtly before turning to his sons, delegating the responsibility of sending missives to them.

"Torwen, please oversee preparations in the guest wing. We will expect representatives within a fortnight."

And so it was that the One Ring had come to reside in the peaceful vale of Imladris. As the fastest messengers were sent to the far reaches of Middle Earth, the darkness of the artifact weighed heavily on the hearts of the fair folk residing within the halls of the Homely House.


	2. The Arrival

**Since I am loath to trust online translators for Elvish, I will be using * to indicate that my characters are speaking in Elvish, and " to indicate Westron. For now, assume that everything in the first chapter was spoken in Elvish and I will head back and edit it when I can.**

 **Please leave a review!**

Aragorn and the three small hobbits had been the first of the expected guests to arrive. All four seemed dead on their feet, the hobbits especially. But all three of the small men were adamant that they see Frodo before taking their rest.

*Are you well, Estel?* Torwen asked, upon seeing the drawn look about the ranger's eyes as they stood just outside the door of Frodo's room; the halfling still slumbered and his three friends had taken cots inside his chambers.

The man's only response was a slight nod as he stared dazedly through the open door of the chamber. His eyes rested on Frodo but the elf could tell that his mind was elsewhere.

*What happened? How did such injury befall Frodo?*

He turned to her then, a darkness clouding his eyes. A look of guilt, Torwen realized.

*The wraiths caught up to us at Weathertop. They were upon the hobbits and one had stabbed Frodo before I could reach them.* He finally uttered, his mouth setting itself into a firm line.

The she-elf was quick to comfort the ranger, laying a hand softly on his arm and giving it a gentle squeeze.

*Estel, this was not your doing. They halflings were lucky to have your aide.*

He gave her a small smile, a simple quirk of his lips that did nothing to ease the tension in his eyes.

*They were lucky Glorfindel found us.* He demurred, his hands tightening to fists at his sides as Torwen dropped her hand from his arm.

She didn't know what to say. She wanted desperately to comfort her friend, but the ranger had a way of bearing all troubles upon his shoulders. And the Dúnedain man was horribly stubborn in his guilt. So she crossed her arms over her chest, glancing to the sleeping hobbits before reaching out to quietly shut the door to the chamber.

Catching her mossy eyes with his steely ones for an instant, he inclined his head to her politely before taking his leave. Turning on his heel and striding from the Healing Houses, no doubt to seek her cousin Arwen's comfort.

The days came and went quickly. Time seemed to have a way of passing slowly for the elves, but the impending council had set most within the Homely House on edge, and time seemed to race forward at an unprecedented rate.

Frodo had awakened. His friends and uncle Bilbo, who had been residing in Imladris for some months before the younger hobbit's arrival, were immensely relieved to find him well and whole. Bilbo and Frodo spent much time together, along with the wizard Gandalf. Sam, a portly young hobbit with golden curls upon his head and a soft demeanor appeared to enjoy spending his time in the gardens, revering the green thumbs of the elves. Merry and Pippin, the two most mischievous of the halfling guests, spent most of their time in the kitchens. She would never admit it out loud, but Merry and Pippin were her favorite of the young hobbits. Their innocent and boisterous nature was infectious, bringing much needed smiles and laughter to the people of the valley.

Representatives for the council trickled in; men and dwarves, who Torwen steered clear of, preferring to spend her days with her cousins or the hobbits. They were still awaiting a delegation of elves to arrive from Mirkwood.

Torwen expressed concern over breakfast one morning that perhaps Lord Thranduil had declined to send a representative. The elven king of the wood had been known to be reclusive and untroubled with matters beyond his borders since the death of his wife centuries previous.

*No,* Elrohir corrected her. *The delegation arrived naught but an hour ago.*

Torwen's brow raised in surprise, her meal forgotten. She felt excitement rising within her, snaring about her stomach giddily. She couldn't help the small grin that swept across her face.

Elladan and Elrohir shared a knowing, exasperated look before turning back to their cousin who was watching them expectantly.

*Yes, he's here.* Elladan confirmed with a playful roll of his eyes.

Before he could finish his sentence, the elleth was pushing her plate away and rising from her seat in a rush. The brothers cried out after her, expressing concern that she hadn't finished breaking her fast. She paid them no mind, her mane of strawberry blonde hair bouncing behind her as she tried to appear graceful in her hurry to leave the dining hall.

The elleth finally found him in the stables, tending to his grey mare that had surely been ridden hard to cover the distance between the valley and the wood he called home. She stood in the doorway, surveying her dearest friend for a moment before greeting him. He hadn't noticed her yet, his attention wholly on the horse before him, murmuring to her as he brushed the dried sweat from her neck. He still stood nearly half a head taller than her, something he had teased her endlessly about as children. His light blonde hair shone almost silver as it hung passed his shoulders in a straight sheet, a small portion of it pulled back and braided from each side. It had been at least three centuries since last she had seen him and yet from her vantage point he seemed unchanged.

Finally she called out to him, stepping fully into the stable and earning his mount's attention as she approached.

*It has been a long time, my prince.* She said quietly, coming to stand beside his horse to stroke her chest.

She saw the amused quirk of his brow at her use of his title, but he didn't turn to her. He continued to brush the already gleaming coat of his steed as he replied.

*Indeed, I am afraid my duties in the Woodlands have kept me quiet occupied.* He said simply, and Torwen thought his expression would appear haughty to anyone that did not know him.

But Torwen did know him. Their mothers were friends from childhood and Torwen often journeyed to the Greenwood with her mother to visit her friend and the young blonde elfling that was of an age with her. Together they had honed their battle skills, both with the bow and Torwen with a single slim and curved sword and Legolas with smaller twin blades of a similar design. They had explored the eaves and boughs of the Greenwood until the darkness had taken the wood and it came to be known as Mirkwood. After Legolas' own mother had been beset upon by orcs within the borders of the forest, Torwen's father had implored Torwen's mother not to return. They had grow up together, and she could see the teasing and jovial glint in his light blue eyes. She turned to him then, grinning brightly as he finally set down the brush and faced her.

*I have missed you dearly, Legolas.* She admitted quietly, stepping forward into his embrace.

Torwen spoke the truth, for their last time together had been sorrowful. Legolas had accompanied her along with her mother and father to the harbor, where they bid them farewell to the Undying Lands. It had been a difficult parting for Torwen and Legolas had been stricken with his own grief at memories of sending his own mother on the same path centuries before.

Her friend had then accompanied her to the borders of Lothlórien, where they had parted ways. She to remain with her grandparents and he to return to his father in Mirkwood. She had not seen him since.

*And I have missed you, dear friend.* He agreed, pulling back to place a hand softly upon her cheek. *Had I known our last parting would be our last until now, I-*

Legolas seemed to struggle to rein himself in, dropping his hand from her cheek with a small, bitter smile. He moved passed her, to lead his horse to her stall. Torwen was slightly taken aback. The two had always shared in bright candor together, but now he seemed more reserved towards her.

But Legolas returned from bedding his mare and smiled brightly at her as he offered her his arm, and the moment had passed.

*Would you accompany me to the dining hall? I am famished.*

Torwen accepted his arm with a small tinkling of laughter. He looked down at her expectantly as he led her from the stables.

*I would be delighted. Only, I am afraid I left the twins there in my rush to find you.* She admitted, biting her lip to keep from giggling.

Legolas chuckled, resting his hand over hers that was tucked into the crook of his elbow. Yes, she decided, he was still her same, dear friend Legolas.


	3. The Fellowship

The morning of the council had dawned bright and chilly. Goose flesh rose on Torwen's arms as she washed from the basin of water on her vanity.

She had managed to secure herself a seat within the council, much to the chagrin of her uncle. The day the twins had gone to send messengers, she had caught them before sending a missive to Lothlórien. Who better to sit on the council than a granddaughter of the Lord and Lady themselves, she had reasoned.

Her cousins, never the ones to stand in the way of anyone's mischief, took little convincing.

And so she donned a forest green gown made of a soft silk. The modest neckline was balanced by a swooping open back, the long sleeves well fitted to her arms. She slipped on her worn leather boots, much preferring them over the slippers that would have better matched her dress, before twisting portions of her long copper hair into a few braids and weaving them together.

Torwen made her way to the dining hall for a breakfast of fruit, cheese, and bread. Most of the folk in the hall were sober and tense, awaiting the council that would take place just after breakfast. The hobbits took up one table together, chatting excitedly amongst themselves. Torwen held no doubts that three of them were discussing the best way to eavesdrop on the council they weren't invited to.

She sat herself at a table with the twins and Legolas.

*Good morning, cousin.* Elrohir greeted her from across the table as she took her seat next to Legolas.

She eyed his cheeky grin warily, surely he was up to some mischief. Her eyes bounced from him to his brother, who was determinedly choosing the best grape from the bunch on his plate. Finally her green eyes settled on the blonde ellon beside her. His eyes were dancing with mirth and he seemed to be biting the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning as he turned to glance at her.

*Now just what is so funny?* She demanded as she filled her plate with some cubes of juicy melon and sliced of apple.

*Whatever do you mean?* Elladan asked, finally looking up from his plate.

*You all look like the hound that caught the fox. Go on then, don't let me ruin your fun.* The she-elf shrugged, popping a piece of melon into her mouth.

Legolas cleared his throat, a horrible attempt to cover a chuckle and looked to Elrohir.

*Then, she yelled some very lovely curses that I would never dare to repeat within my father's halls. And she drew back her bow, pointing it nearly straight up in the air, letting the arrow fly.* He paused to mime releasing an arrow before gesturing to his own waist and continuing. *The arrow came so close to poor Elladan's-*

*Enough!* Torwen chastised as Legolas nearly roared with laughter beside her.

*It's a very entertaining story, Torwen.* Elrohir protested, ducking the slice of apple his cousin chucked towards his face.

Up at the high table, Lord Elrond quirked a brow. A half smile tugged at his usually stern set mouth as he watched the four youngsters antagonize one another. Such a shame that they were thrust into an age of darkness.

Torwen took her seat next to Legolas, smoothing her silk skirts as her uncle greeted them all, explaining the need for their council today. Gesturing to the dark haired hobbit sat beside Galdalf, he requested that Frodo present the One Ring.

Once Frodo had returned to his seat, the Gondorian representative, the eldest son of the steward, had stood, pacing slowly towards the platform that the Ring sat upon. A shiver ran down her spine at the dark, glazed look in his eye as he spoke of dreams of finding Isildur's Bane and using it against the armies of Mordor.

"You cannot wield it, none of us can!" Aragorn called out urgently, standing from his seat near Gandalf and Frodo. "The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."

The other man, Boromir was his name, scoffed, eyeing Aragorn petulantly.

"And what would a Ranger know of this matter?"

Torwen was startled when Legolas was the next to jump to his seat, quick to defend their Dúnedain friend.

"That is no mere ranger." He scolded, nearly glaring at the Gondorian. "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegience."

Boromir glanced between the two disbelievingly.

"Aragorn?" He repeated haltingly, his eyes finally settling on Aragorn. "This is Isildur's heir?"

"And heir to the throne of Gondor." Legolas reminded him.

*Sit down, Legolas.* Aragorn called, holding out a hand placatingly.

When the ellon hesitated, still bristling towards the steward's son, Torwen reached forward and wrapped her hand around his. Giving his hand a slight tug seemed to break him from his staring contest with the man and he sat back down next to her, rubbing a thumb across her knuckles in a silent affirmation that he was calm again.

The Gondorian wasn't finished and Torwen had to fight not to roll her eyes, up next to her uncle she saw the twins fighting the urge as well. This man was very pompous, indeed.

"Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king." He grumbled lowly, glaring first at Legolas and then at Aragorn as he finally returned to his seat.

"Aragorn is right. We cannot use it." Gandalf said with a slight shake of his head.

"You have but one choice." Her uncle stated imperiously from his place before the council. "The ring must be destroyed." He concluded, eyes roving over the small gathering before him.

"What are we waiting for?" A russet haired dwarf demanded, standing from his seat and hefting his axe over his shoulder.

Torwen flinched into Legolas' side when the dwarf brought the axe down upon the small golden ring. The was a horrid clang as the axe was cleaved into many pieces, shards of it whizzing by her. The dwarf was throw onto his bottom, looking utterly stunned and slightly dazed.

"The ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess." Elrond chastised softly. "The ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade."

Torwen tightened her grip on Legolas' hand. A chill swept through her at the thought of Mordor, of any of them here approaching the Black Gate.

Her uncle continued to explain the method by which the Ring would be destroyed, and Legolas grew tense beside her when the Gondorian spoke again. Boromir thought it hopeless, folly he called it. It came as little surprise to her when Legolas all but threw her hand away from himself and stood again, facing off a second time with the man from Gondor.

"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said?!" He demanded incredulously, his glare stopping Boromir in his tracks. "The ring must be destroyed."

His words fanned the russet haired drawf's ire, still ashamed at mangling his axe. Soon nearly all of the council was arguing, shouting over one another to be heart. Boromir threw a rather unpleasant insult towards Legolas and Towen stood to defend him only for the blonde ellon to reach back and push her behind him protectively.

Everyone quieted when a small voice called out. Wheeling to face the small hobbit, she felt her heart tug as he made his way towards Gandlaf and Elrond uncertainly.

"I will take the Ring to Mordor." He offered shakily, pausing embartsssedly before continuing. "Though I...I do not know the way."

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins. As long as it is yours to bear." Gandalf intoned, placing a fatherly hand on the hobbit's shoulder.

Aragorn was the next to offer his allegiance, assuring Frodo that he had his sword.

Without really realizing she was doing it, Torwen had brushed her way out from behind Legolas, twisting her hand away when he reached for her. She knelt before Frodo, her green eyes meeting his bright blue ones.

"Lothlórien would see this great evil banished. You have my wisdom, Frodo, such as it is." She assured him, placing both hands upon his shoulders briefly before standing and joining Aragorn and Gandalf behind him.

Legolas stepped forward, his eyes hard and flashing as they set on her. He offered Frodo his bow, coming to stand next to her. This incised the dwarf and he assured Frodo of his axe.

Boromir was the final one to walk forward, and Torwen found her brows arching in surprise.

Suddenly, three small figured burst forth from the edge of the garden courtyard they had met in, yelling as they approached. And so it was the Sam, Merry and Pippin joined them as well, claiming that they would be needed on this mission... quest.

Elrond looked them all over with an appraising eye, and the elleth didn't miss the way his eyes tightened when they reached her. But he continued on, and spoke after a moment.

"Ten companions." He began thoughtfully. "So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring." He announced, surveying them all one last time before turning away.


	4. The Departure

Dawn seemed to come to Imladris earlier than usual on the day of their departure. They had spent quite some time in the Homely House since the council of Elrond had met. Torwen rolled out of bed as soon as the first pale rush of light touched the eastern horizon, splashing water onto her face to help sharpen her senses.

Sleep had nearly escaped her that last night in the protected valley. She had spent the evening roaming the gardens with the twins and Legolas for a time, mostly in companionable silence aside from the occasional teasing from one of her cousins. Torwen was anxious about leaving them behind. She had been visiting Imladris for nearly half a century now, and knew she would miss their antics and lighthearted teasing dearly.

Eventually, long after the sun had set and the moon was high overhead, the twins had retreated to their respective chambers for the night. And the remaining elleth and ellon had made their way to the library, each selecting a book before settling on the hearth rug near the merrily dancing fire.

The two elfs sat back to back for a time, each lost in their own book. Eventually they shifted positions so they were sitting side by side, and talked at great length of their time apart. Finally, mere hours before dawn, Torwen had found herself nodding off leaned into Legolas' side with his arm wrapped comfortably about her.

*Come on, I will walk you to your chambers.* He had said as he stood, pulling her with him.

Now as she dressed for their journey in a long sleeved cotton shirt dyed black, with a rusty brown tunic over top and black leggings beneath her soft leather boots, she decided she was quite happy that Legolas was joining them on their journey. She had been away from her friend for too long and despite the looming importance of their task, she would enjoy being in his company once again.

After braiding her hair quickly, the she-elf slung her pack over her shoulder after double checking its contents. An extra set of clothes, a dress at Arwen's insistence, a personal stash of apples, her throwing knife in its sheath, and an extra bowstring. Wrapped carefully in a scrap of velvet was a circlet her mother had given her before she sailed west. Her cloak was folded neatly on top. Her bed roll was strapped to the bottom of the pack, and her sword, galadrhim bow, and quiver were lashed to it for the time being.

She spared her room one last glance before stepping out into the hall and heading to the dining hall for a quick breakfast with the rest of the fellowship.

Breakfast was a somber affair, aside from the hobbits bantering back and forth. Each member of the fellowship was mentally preparing for their journey in their own way.

Upon completing breakfast, the fellowship could be found gathered in the sheltered courtyard. Torwen had bid Bilbo a fond farewell, as she had grown quite fond of the cheerful old hobbit. Next the twins approached her. Elladan embraced her tightly without a word, and if the situation hadn't been so serious she would have commented on the tear glistening on his cheek as he pulled back and passed her to his brother.

*You have everything? You sharpened your sword? You remembered your cloak?* He questioned, straightening her tunic as he pulled back.

*Yes, Elrohir.* She answered, a bit exasperated, he really could be a mother hen when he wanted to be. *Honestly, you act like I am a green elfling.*

*Did you change your bow string?* Her cousin demanded, ignoring her chiding accusation.

*No because I only changed it a fortnight ago. I've brought an extra.* She assured him, rolling her eyed.

*Torwen-*

*Really, Elrohir. Stop. I will be fine.* She intoned, placing a calming hand on his shoulder.

*Leave her be, Elrohir.* Elrond commanded gently as he approached.

Elrohir stepped aside to join his twin and her uncle open his arms. She quickly stepped into his embrace, comforted by his quiet strength.

*It is not too late to change your mind.* He reminded her, placing a kiss upon the crown of her head.

She pulled back and frowned at him. They had had this exact conversation countless times since the council and her answer was the same every time. She was just as much a part of Middle Earth as any other member of their fellowship, and she refused to sit idly by if she could somehow be of assistance.

Instead of lecturing him again, she merely sighed and shook her head.

*Goodbye uncle.* She murmured quietly, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek before turning away.

*Be well, little one.*

As she approached the rest of the group, she heard her uncle bid Legolas farewell, imploring him to watch over her as he did. She rolled her eyes as she checked her sword belt and readjusted her quiver.

Standing as a group, they all listened as the Lord of Imladris bid them all a farewell and reminded them that none were bound to go further than they would.

"The fellowship awaits the ring bearer." Gandalf announced.

They all followed Frodo to the gates of the fair valley, where he paused. Looking first left, then right, before looking over his shoulder to the wizard who chuckled fondly.

"Left."

The first days of their journey were rather uneventful. They awoke at first light every day, had a quick breakfast and then would continue on their way after Aragorn and Legolas had checked that they didn't leave a trace behind.

They would walk all day, not stopping until dinner. Something Pippin was adamantly opposed to, and he made it known. He complained at every turn about wanting to stop for second breakfast, lunch, tea, and a myriad of other meal times until Gandalf had given him a sound whack on the top of his head with his staff.

As they walk Torwen mostly stuck to Legolas' side, usually either scouting ahead or trailing some distance behind the rest of the fellowship to ensure they weren't followed. Aragorn wished to cover their tracks, but their number was simply too great to do so efficiently without slowing them significantly. Occasionally Torwen would walk next to the dwarf, Gimli. She had never had many doings with his race, though she hadn't heard many nice things from other elves. But the russet haired man seemed friendly enough, especially towards the rest of the fellowship. He had started to warm up to her, but still seemed to regard Legolas as naught but a spoiled elvish princeling, which Torwen found immensely entertaining and did not discourage.

"I am glad to see you were able to acquire a new axe so quickly, Master Dwarf." She had teased one afternoon.

She had enjoyed the ruddy blush that colored his face and chuckled when Aragorn threw her an amused smirk over his shoulder.

"Aye lass. Always carry a spare." He had replied jovially, patting the head of the axe that rested heavily at his hip. "And you may call me Gimli, lass." He had added as an afterthought.

Torwen had awarded him with a brilliant smile, which set the dwarf to blushing again and grumbling under his breath as she left his side to join Legolas at the back of the group.

In the late afternoon, they would stop walking and make camp. Since they had hence forth had no reason to believe they were being followed, a small campfire had been allowed each night, for cooking and for warmth. While Sam tended to dinner, Boromir sparred with a Merry and Pippin, the two hobbits eager to learn to wield their short swords. Their sparring usually ended in a grappling tussle and today was no different.

They had found a sheltered crag that was surrounded by boulders along the western foothills of the Misty Mountains. The small hollow they had decided to camp in provided them with protection from the cool northern wind that had been blowing steadily all day. Sam was readying the fire for dinner, while Frodo sat a ways away with Gandalf. Aragorn was watching Boromir, Merry, and Pippin, occasionally calling out advice to the two smaller participants. Gimli was lounging on top of one of the smaller boulder, contentedly pulling on his tobacco pipe. Legolas had perched himself upon one of the larger outcroppings, standing a silent sentinel as Torwen relaxed near his feet. She had her knees pulled up to her chest, her arms hanging loosely about her shins as her cheek rested against her knees. The elleth enjoyed watching the two hobbits learn from Boromir.

The elleth had decided that he was not so pompous as he had seemed at the council. Actually, she rather enjoyed listening to him recount tales of his brother and himself growing up in the white city of Minas Tirith. Occasionally though, she found him staring dazedly at Frodo. The same drawn and shadowed look to his face that she had seen when he had spoken of his dreams during her uncle's council. It unnerved her greatly. And though she could tell he was a good man, she was also wary of him and reminded herself to keep a close eye on him.

Torwen chuckled when one of the halflings kicked Boromir in the shin in retaliation to him accidentally nicking a finger with his blade. Soon enough it was an all out brawl and the two hobbits had the steward's son pinned to the ground. Aragorn rose from his seat to lend the Gondorian a hand, but he too was soon toppled to the ground by the two enthusiastic pint sized warriors. Torwen laughed outright at the sight of the ranger's surprised face.

As their wrestling came to an end, Boromir stood and began to dust himself off but something in the southern sky caught his attention. He voiced his concern for the movement in the sky and the dwarf glanced over before dismissing it as a wisp of cloud.

"It moves fast, and against the wind." Boromir protested, squinting to attempt a better look.

Torwen had stood, shoulder to shoulder with the blonde elf, to get a better look at the southern sky. Her eyes widened in recognition as Legolas wheeled.

"Crebain, from Dunland!"

In a flash the camp was a whirl of activity. Legolas and Torwen jumped from their perch, while Gimli rolled not quite so gracefully from his. Aragorn quickly worked on putting out the small fire while the rest of the group threw packs into the bushes and hurried to hide.

Just as Torwen had begun to slide into a hollow spot in the ground beneath one of the large rocks, a dull glint of metal caught her eye. Sam had left his frying pan, and it was catching the afternoon sun. She dashed out to retrieve it and no sooner had her fingers wrapped around the handle than an arm wrapped around her waist and jerked her down as the large flock of murderous birds descended upon the camp. Her head bounced against the hard stone ground and a hand had come up to muffle the shriek that died in her throat, while the arm around her waist clutched her tightly.

As quickly as the flock had appeared, it was gone. And slowly, the fellowship emerged from their hiding places. Torwen stood on unsteady feet, shaking her head dazedly. She was still a bit disoriented from her head making contact with the solid ground. Legolas followed her from their hiding spot and reached out to steady her, recieving an appreciative grimace in return. Soon, the fog un her eyes lifted and she was able to stand straight without assistance, though the pounding in her head continued.

"Torwen is injured." Frodo remarked as the elleth moved to retrieve her pack.

"I bumped my head trying to hide. I will be alright." She assured him, sending him a quick smile.

But Aragorn and Legolas both were in front of her in an instant. The ranger watching worriedly as the blonde elf brought a hand up to the left side of the elleth's forehead. The ranger and the elf announced that she needed tending before they moved on, despite her protests.

Aragorn cut off a corner of his tunic, handing it to Legolas who drenched it in water from one of their water skins. Torwen obediently took a seat upon a small rock when she saw the worried set of his lips. He stepped forward to stand between her legs and carefully dabbed and wiped at her forehead with the cloth. She hadn't even realized how deep the scrape was until it began to sting at the contact.

*Legolas, really-*

*Let me, please. This was my fault.* He said quietly.

*As if I haven't befallen worse at your hand.* She teased, a wry smirk twisting her mouth.

The corner of his mouth twitched, and Torwen was pleased to see his eyes brighten a bit.

"You'd think they'd have the common decency to speak a language we all understand." Gimgli grumbled from behind them.

Soon both elves were snickering and Legolas stepped away, satisfied that her wound was clean. She passed a hand over the abrasion, pooling her life force in her palm to encourage the skin to heal a bit quicker than usual.

Gandalf decided that the arrival of the black birds meant their southerly route was being watched. Boromir wanted to make for the Gap of Rohan, skirting around the edge of the Misty Mountains. While Gimli suggested they go under the mountains through the Mines of Moria. Gandlaf demurred from both suggestions, especially Gimli's.

"We will make for the Pass of Caradrhas."

 **Thank you to**


	5. The Pass

The fellowship had stopped and camped in the western foothills again, this time a copse of trees was their cover, and the leaves that had fallen made a comfortably springy bed.

They gathered around the fire, the hobbits were telling stories of the Shire and Torwen felt her heart twinge for them. So far from home, but so brave to follow their friend into this danger.

"I have never seen an elf with hair the color of yours, Torwen." Boromir mused after it had been quiet for a time. "It reminds me of the first fallen leaves in the autumn. Is it a common hair color?"

"No, it's not." The she-elf replied with a shake of her head. "I believe it came from my mother's side, though Legolas may know more about it than me, my mother was from his kingdom."

They all looked to the blonde elf, who looked thoughtful for a moment before answering.

"Truthfully, I do not know. I certainly do not recall seeing another with the same shade."

Evidently Boromir was very curious about elves. Because he pondered their answer for a moment before asking another question.

"Do elves wed? In the way that men do?"

"Yes. I suppose." Legolas answered haltingly.

"Elves wed but it is different from the union of men." Torwen supplied. "We love deeply, much more so than any other race. When we wed our souls are bound forever."

"When one perishes, the other is soon to follow." Legolas continued.

"That is why you may hear stories of elves dying of a broken heart." Aragorn explained to the Gondorian.

"And how long have the two of you been wed?"

Torwen and Legolas shared a look before they both burst into laughter. Aragorn chuckled and Gandalf let out an amused huff as he pulled from his pipe. The hobbits merely looked confused.

"I apologize. Forgive me, I assumed that you were bound." Boromir muttered, his face flushed in embarrassment.

"There is no need for apologies." Torwen assured him. "Truly, we are very close. Legolas and I grew up together. But I am from Lórien while Legolas is from Mirkwood."

"Torwen is very dear to me, but we have only ever been close friends." The blonde elfs confirmed, returning to tending his twin short swords.

"Besides, I doubt Lord Thranduil would view me as a proper match for the princeling." Torwen teased, causing Legolas to roll his eyes.

"My father has no bearing over whom I may pledge my heart to." Legolas muttered, sighting down the length of one of his blades to ensure it was straight.

"I believe it is time for us all to get some rest." Gandalf interjected, an amused twinkle in his eyes. "We will be off at first light."

"I'll take first watch." Torwen offered, standing from the campfire and picking up her bow before seating herself upon a fallen log in the far reaches of the fire light.

The elleth sat, still as a statue, for hours. Her pointed ears were straining for any hint of an approaching threat while her keen eyes scanned the dark copse for movement. She was still on edge from the cebrain scouts the group had encountered the day previous. Gandalf had expressed concern that perhaps the Dunlanders now served Saruman. She hadn't asked why Gandalf no longer trusted in the leader of his order, simply trusting his wisdom.

The waning moon was high overhead and the campfire nearly dead when she heard soft footfalls behind her. Turning, she saw Legolas approaching, his own bow in hand. She didn't rise from her place upon the log, and the blonde ellon dropped a hand on her shoulder.

*Are you well, little one?*

Torwen sighed, a grimace twisting her face.

*As well as can be expected. The darkness weighs heavily on my heart and mind.* She admitted, staring back out into the trees as he sat next to her.

*On mine as well. I fear that the darkness will only grow, now that Saruman has turned his back on us.*

They sat in silence for only a few moments before the ellon spoke again.

*Go, rest. I will stay here.*

They had been climbing all day. As they neared the highest point of the pass the sparse evergreens gave way to barren ground, scattered with boulders and hardy tufts of grass. Eventually this gave way to snow, which gradually grew deeper until it very nearly reached the men's waists and the dwarf and hobbits were up to their chests in the places where the snow drifted.

The elves were able to walk on top of the snow, with their light feet. But the others were left to trudge through as best as they could. They were all exhausted, even the elves were growing weary from the cold. The hobbits had stumbled a few times, and Frodo had nearly rolled back down the mountain once, were it not for Aragorn catching him. The Ring, which the halfling now wore around his neck on a silver chain, had somehow fallen into the snow and it had been Boromir that had found it. His face was stricken by that same shadow that Torwen had seen a few times now, and she daren't breathe until he handed it back to the dark haired hobbit before ruffling his hair.

Now the elves were walking nimbly ahead of the group as the wind and snow picked up, bringing an unnatural cold with it. It chilled Torwen to the bone and she pulled her cloak tighter around her. Gandalf had once again denied the request that they turn back, urging them all forward.

*Do you hear that?* The elleth asked, turning to the blonde elf beside her.

Carried on the wind, hardly more than a whisper even to their keen ears, was a deep chanting. It was as if the voice itself pulled the warmth from her and she began to shiver.

"There is a fell voice on the air!" Legolas called back, even as the wind nearly blew them from the side of the mountain.

"It's Saruman!" Gandalf replied, pushing his way passed them and beginning a chant of his own.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain!"

Within seconds a flash of lightening struck the mountain with a resounding crack. With a deafening rumble, snow and rocks came tumbling down. Legolas managed to shove her and the wizard to the far side of the path, against the cliff face before the cascade could knock them down.

Instead, they were buried beneath the avalanche. For a moment, they seemed stuck. And against Legolas' chest she felt her throat constrict with panic. They would suffocate here, all of them. But then Legolas was shifting upwards, using his broad shoulders to bust through the snow that surrounded and covered them. He lifted her up first, checking that she was steady before reaching down to help Gandalf up next.

Everyone had luckily, miraculously, made it out unscathed. Again Bormir suggested the Gap of Rohan, while Gimli adamantly urged that they take advantage of his kin residing beneath the mountain.

This time, Gandalf delegated the decision to Frodo. After glancing at every member of the group, the halfling announcing that they should make for Moria.

"So be it." The wizard sighed, defeated.

Torwen felt her stomach knot at the way the old man's eyes tightened before turning to lead them back down the mountain.

 **Thank you to Shetan20 and DarkAngel2581 for the reviews!** **I really hope you enjoy this chapter! please leave me a review.**


	6. The Mines of Moria

Once they had descended from the snow covered pass, it had not taken them long to reach the doors of Moria. The river Sirannon had been dammed years before and now a small lake all but blocked the Westgate.

They had had to pick their way around the edge of the water in single file before gathering near the hidden doors that Gandalf revealed to them after touching his staff to the doors and uttering an enchantment. Ornate silver markings had formed a large arch with a line down the center, forming stone double doors. Evidently a password was needed, and the fellowship was taking rest while the wizard puzzled over what it may be.

The air felt heavy and thick. Each breath seemed to be a struggle for the copper haired elf. Looking to her blonde haired companion, she saw this his nostrils were flared as if he could feel it too. The elleth felt uneasy being near the water and moved closer to the wall of the mountain that supported the doors, keeping a few large rocks between herself and the shore. She was relieved when the men stopped Merry and Pippin from skipping rocks across the pool, for she was sure she had seen a ripple originate far from where the stones disturbed the surface.

Finally, the wizard had discovered the password with the help of the ringbearer and cautiously they entered the dark entrance as Gimli regaled them with promises of the highest hospitality within the mine.

"This isn't a mine." Boromir correctly the dwarf lowly. "It is a tomb."

It was then that Torwen took note of the skeletal remains littering the floor, still clad in their armor. In her haste to be away from the water, she hadn't noticed the dank scent of death and decay that assaulted her nose, making her eyes water.

Striding forward, Legolas plucked an arrow from a leather breastplate and examined it quickly before declaring the massacre the work of goblins.

"We should never have come here. We will make for the Gap of Rohan." Boromir declared before urging them all to get out of the mine.

Seeming all to agree, the group turned to the exit just as a solitary tentacle shot out of the water and grabbed Frodo around his ankle. He called for Aragorn, terror in his voice. Sam bravely lunged forward and started hacking at the tentacle with his sword. Finally it was severed and Frodo was free.

There was scarcely time to breathe a sigh of relief when another dozen tentacles erupted from the murky depths, again ensnaring Frodo and hoisting him into the air. Torwen moved closer to the exit, drawing her bow and knocking an arrow. Quickly taking her aim she loosed the projectile and it hit its mark, the appendage clinging to the ringbearer. The ellon beside her was doing the same, aiming for any part of the beast that he could.

Finally, after the monster had shown them its face with its rows of jagged teeth, they managed to free Frodo. The creature pulled itself from the water with a vengeful scream, pulling itself up using the stone double doors of the mine. They had no choice, the retreated into the dark entrance of Moria mere seconds before the entrance collapsed in a rumbling cacophany of rubble, effectively killing the monster and trapping them inside at once.

"We now have but one choice. We must face the long dark of Moria." Gandalf sighed, lighting a crystal upon the top of his staff. "Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than orcs in the deep places of the world." He cautioned, leading them through the tall instance hall and towards a stone bridge.

They crossed in single file, and the she-elf clutched her bow until her knuckles were white. She most certainly did not like the feel of this place. The chasm below the bridge seemed bottomless, and even her sharp eyes could not pierce the darkness beyond the soft light of Gandalf's staff.

"Quietly now. It's a four day journey to the other side." The wizard warned once they had crossed the bridge safely. "Let us hope that our presence will go unnoticed."

*I do not like this place.* Legolas murmured from just behind her.

*It is as if the very darkness would steal my breath.* Torwen agreed, adjusting her grip on her bow.

The fellowship walked, and walked. Quietly, led only by the wizard's staff. They walked until the hobbits were in obvious need of rest. Even then their respite was not long. Gandalf allowed them only two hours rest before he was urging them forward again.

And so they continued in this fashion until they climbed a steep staircase and reached a great cavern, so wide and tall that they could only guess at its vastness. It seemed to be a cemetary, given that the glow of Gandalf's staff revealed what looked to be tombstones and every twenty meters or so, great pillars soared up to support the ceiling that was invisible to them. More drawven skeletons littered the space, and on some monuments goblin graffiti was scrawled it what looked to be blood.

After traversing the graveyard, the passed through a long corridor. It was wide enough for them to walk two abreast and Torwen found herself walking alongside Gimli. She dropped a hand softly upon the dwarf's shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

"I am sorry, Gimli." She murmured, hoping to convey her sincerity.

The russet haired dwarf had no words in reply, he simply gave her a watery smile and patted her hand.

Passing through the corridor, they came to a smaller cavern with three tunnels leading in opposite directions and Gandalf stopped, peering around curiously.

"I have no memory of this place." He rumbled.

The travelers milled about as Gandalf sat perched on a large rock, seemingly in a daze as he stared at each tunnel in turn.

Torwen quirked a brow at Merry and Pippin when Pippin admitted to his friend that he was hungry. They both flushed and fell silent. Silently, Legolas moved to stand next to her, holding out a water skin. Muttering her thanks, she took a small drink, relishing the way the cool liquid soothed her sore throat. The dust within the mine seemed to be suffocating at times and she wondered briefly if mines were always so dusty, or if this one was simply so because its inhabitants were long gone.

*I long to be under trees again.* The blonde ellon admitted after he had replaced the cap on his water skin and reattached it to his person.

*Elves do not belong underground.* She agreed, crossing her arms around herself as if to dispel her discomfort.

*Perhaps when this journey is finished, I shall escort you back to the golden wood. I have always wished to spend time under the Malorn trees.*

Torwen smiled at her friend, she would enjoy that very much. All the centuries they had been friends and Legolas had never visited Lórien, save for the time he had escorted her home.

"Ah! It is this way!" Gandalf exclaimed happily, hefting himself up from his perch.

"He's remembered!" Merry cheered, relieved as the rest of the group prepared to follow the wizard through the right most tunnel.

"No. But the air does not smell so foul down there." Gandalf explained. "When in doubt Meriadoc, always follow your nose!"

Torwen grinned at the wizard's advice and from beside her Legolas chuckled.

Through the tunnel they travelled and passed under a large stone archway into near total darkness. The wizard tapped his staff upon the floor, supposing they could risk a little more light. As his staff glowed brighter the she-elf felt her breath hitch in her chest. She had never seen anything so magnificent made from stone and earth. Huge pillars ornately carved raced up to the fathomless ceiling, and the cavern must have been a few leagues in size at least, for they could discern no end in any direction.

"Behold. The great realm and dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf." The wizard intoned lowly.

"Now there's an eye opener and no mistake!" Sam uttered disbelievingly.

As they began to traverse the immense hall, the dwarf of their party rushed ahead with a shout. Ahead and to their left was a chamber filled with sunlight. The doors had nearly been wrought from their hinges and more of the black goblin arrows were embedded into the timbers. Gandalf called after the dwarf but he paid no heed.

The rest of the fellowship followed and found themselves in a smaller antechamber of sorts. High up on the two storied wall was a slim, paneless window that flooded the room with sunlight, nearly blinding them. In the center of the room Gimli was upon his knees in front of a large stone slab, uttering his disbelief. Gandalf stepped forward to read the runes upon the slab, confirming Gimli's reason for grief.

"Here lies Balin, son of Fudin, Lord of Moria. It is as I feared then, he is dead."

A large and worn tome caught the wizard's eye, clutched in the skeletal hands of an dwarf, leaned against the resting place of Balin. He handed his tall pointed hat and staff to Pippin before easing the book from the skeleton's grip and opening it with a creak of the leather bindings.

"We must move on, we cannot linger." Legolas whispered from between Torwen and Aragorn.

The elleth and the ranger shared a tight glance before both glancing about the room. Pippin backed away from Gandalf as he read from the tome, describing the last moments of the dwarves of Moria as Gimli groaned from his place on the floor. The tome foretold of drums from deep within the caverns, the ground shaking, and a shadow moving within the halls. Pippin backed away nervously until he stumbled into the stone walled well in the corner of the chamber, knocking a skeleton and then a chain and bucket into the depths of the well. The clanging and banging echoed for a long while before Gandalf snatched his effects away from the hobbit angrily.

"Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time and rid us all of your stupidity!"

The small hobbit seemed to shrink in upon himself until there was a great rolling boom heard from somewhere in the distance. The boom repeated before horns were heard, raising the hairs on the back of Torwen's neck. Frodo pulled out his sword, Sting, to see it glowing blue.

"Orcs!" Legolas spat from beside her.

"Get back!" Aragorn ordered the hobbits, giving them a rough shove. "Stay close to Gandalf!"

He and Boromir hastened to the doors, Boromir peering out quickly before ducking back in to start barricading the doors.

Behind them, Gimli climbed atop the stone slab, twirling his axe. Growling out a rough threat to their encroaching enemies.

"They have a cave troll." Boromir informed them with a twisted grimace.

Within moments, crude weapons had begun hacking at the doors. Torwen and Legolas both fired arrows through the holes cloven into the wood, Aragorn following their lead. But the doors would not hold and soon the cavern was flooded with nearly two dozen of the foul beasts, closely followed by a large ugly troll, lead by a chain around its neck and dragging a huge club.

Torwen replaced her bow with her slim, curved sword, making quick work of the first few enemies she encountered. Nearby her allies were performing much the same, cutting down as many of the enemy as quickly as they could. The only exception was Legolas, the blonde ellon was focusing on the troll. This only seemed to enrage the great beast and it began to fling the length of chain that hung about its neck. Torwen managed to hop over it once, but was distracted by an approaching goblin when the chain came back around. It caught her along her back and sent her flying, knocking her into a pillar.

With a hiss she rose to her feet, disoriented. Shaking her head to clear it of the fog, she attempted to parry the blow of an enemy sword but wavered when pain shot through the tender muscle of her back. The enemy's sword slid down the length of her blade before glancing against her side, just below her ribs. With a growl she kicked the enemy away before drawing her knife from her belt and flicking it in his direction. Her aim proved true and the projectile lodged itself in the creature's throat, causing it to crumple to the floor as it bled out.

Dashing forward to pluck the blade from the still gurgling enemy, she glanced around and with a sigh of relief saw that the lesser enemies were dead and watched the troll fall to the floor with a crash. Her relief was short lived when she saw Frodo laying face down in a corner, a cruel looking pike underneath him.

Approaching wearily, clutching her hand to her wounded side, she watched as Aragorn turned the young hobbit over with care. Her eyes widened when Frodo gasped for breath, and informed them all that he was alright.

"That spear would have skewered a wild boar!" The ranger exclaimed, confused.

"I think there's more to this hobbit than meets the eye." Gandalf said thoughtfully, as Frodo opened his shirt to reveal an ornate chainmail underneath.

"Mithril." Gimli whispered, his eyes shining with awe. "You are full of surprises, Master Baggins!"

Suddenly, the drums sounded again in the distance and they all tensed.

"To the Bridge of Khazad-dun!" Gandalf ordered, leading them back out into the large hall. "This way!" He called over his shoulder.

They ran, and Torwen held her left hand to her wounded side while her right hand clutched her sword. The slice was still bleeding, but not so freely as it had been. She had neither the time nor the concentration to spare to heal it. From beside her she saw Legolas glace down to her side worriedly but caught his eye and shook her head, giving him a grim smile, letting him know that she would be fine.

As they fled towards a distant doorway, goblins crept down the pillars of the hall like grotesque and overgrown bugs, until finally they were surrounded and forced to a halt. Standing back to back they prepared to fight to the last man. Suddenly, there was a red glow accompanied but a loud, low grumbling from the opposite end of the hall. The goblins began to scatter with much squealing and shrieking. Gimli chuckled as they fled, brandishing his axe and growling. But Torwen was not so relieved.

"What is this new devilry?" Boromir wondered from behind her, as they backed away from the eery flickering glow.

"A balrog. A demon of the ancient world. This foe is beyond any of you." Gandalf stated lowly, before turning to lead them away from the fiery beast. "Run! Quickly!"

Finally they reaching a winding stair, and Gandalf urged them on, falling behind as the flaming creature revealed itself to them. At least forty feet high with great curled horns sprouting from either side of it's head and angry red eyes, the creature had huge hulking arms and hands that ended in claws as sharp as daggers. They came to a gap in the stair and the elves were the first to cross, followed by Gandalf. Sam was tossed over, followed by Boromir holding Merry and Pippin under each arm. Gimli refused to be tossed and just barely made it across the chasm. Legolas had to reach out and pull him to safety by clutching his beard, which the dwarf protested to loudly.

The floor shook beneath them and more of the stair crumbled away, in front of and behind Aragorn and Frodo, who had yet to cross. The distance was now too great to jump and the stair they were on wobbled precariously. Aragorn, thinking quickly, instructed Frodo to lean forward. Using their combined weight they were able to shift the stair towards the others and jumped as it crashed into the remaining staircase.

The balrog disappeared into the chasm below, stalking them as they made their way towards the bridge of Khazad-dun. The floor rumbled and split, spitting hot flame that licked at the fellowship as they passed, urged on by the wizard. In single file they hurried across the narrow stone bridge, none of them darting to look down into the bottomless depths below.

Gandalf stopped in the middle of the bridge and the group turned to watch in horror, Frodo calling for the wizard, as he turned to face the foul creature of fire.

"You cannot pass!" The wizard commanded, sword and staff in hand.

The balrog, challenging his threat, stood to it's full height, unfurling its huge wings to fill the space surrounding it.

"I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun!"

The balrog seemed not to heed the wizard as he placed one foot on the bridge and wielded a sword of flame towards the wizard.

"Go back to the shadow!" The man commanded, meeting the doors of flame with his own weapon, shattering it.

"YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"

Aragorn and Boromir lunged forward, as if to aid the wizard, but stopped short when Gandalf brought staff and sword down to strike the stone beneath his feet as the balrog produced a whip of flame and cracked it with a sound like lightening. A blinding pulse of light was sent forth from the strike, and the hair on the back of Torwen's neck stood on end as the wizard's power engulfed them. His staff shattered, and the bridge beneath the balrog crumbled, casting the horrendous creature back into the chasm from whence it was born.

Gandalf turned back to the fellowship, weary and relieved. No sooner had they stepped forward to greet them than the balrog whipped its whip on e more, and the end caught the wizard's ankle, dragging him to the edge of the bridge, where he clung briefly.

"Fly, you fools!" He called, fear in his blue gaze as he dropped from sight.

Frodo screamed for the wizard, rushing forward. Boromir caught him and hefted him along. They had to get out, they were being pelted with arrows from all directions.

Finally, they made their way through the Dimroll Dale Door and emerged onto a grassy, sunlit hill. The hobbits immediately fell to their knees, sobbing. Torwen felt tears prick her eyes, both from the sudden brightness of the sun and from the sudden loss of Gandalf.

"Legolas! Torwen! Get them up!" Aragorn called, impatient to be gone from the evil place.

"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!" Boromir pleaded.

"Torwen is injured, she needs tending."

Aragorn looked to the elleth, seeing her clutching her side, her face pale. With grief or pain he did not know.

"Can you run? It is not far."

Torwen nodded, not trusting herself to speak. From beside her, Legolas' eyes flashed as he glared at her. She ignored him. Aragorn was right, they needed to move.

"By nightfall these hills will be crawling with orcs! We must reach the woods of Lothlórien." Aragorm explained, walking over to Sam. "Come. Boromir, Legolas, Gimli. Get them up. On your feet, Sam"

And so they turned their sights to Lothlórien, to the south. Away from the Great Eastern Gate, away from the Gray Pilgrim. The one that amongst them had seemed invincible.

 **So sorry if this chapter seems tedious and wordy. I had considered splitting it but could not figure out how I could accomplish that without it seeming choppy. And i want Lothlórien to be it's own thing.** **Thank you to Golden Haired Ravenclaw for the review. And that you to all that have favorited and followed. I would very much appreciate it if you could review this chapter, as I feel that fight scenes are NOT my strong point.** **Love, T.**


	7. The Golden Wood

The afternoon sun was still high in the sky when the fellowship reached the shade of Lothlórien and Legolas breathed a sigh of relief. They all slowed to a walk and instantly he was at the copper haired elleth's side.

*Torwen, your side.*

*I'm fine, Legolas.* She dismissed with a shake of her head. *We are not far enough into the borders to stop safely.*

With a sigh he followed her further into the trees and silently marveled at the silver and gold of the malorn trees. The canopy was filled with the golden leaves, most bigger than his hand. He reached out and touched the silver barked trunk of a tree as he passed.

*These trees are more active than I am accustomed to.*

*We've never stopped singing to them.* Torwen explained, shooting him a small grin over her shoulder. *Few of the mallorn slumber.*

Ahead of them, Gimli was warning the hobbits that the Lady of the Wood was a sorceress that ensnared the minds of all visitors to Lórien. Beside him, Torwen snorted a laugh and he chuckled. He had never met the Lady Galadriel, but he very highly doubted the the dwarf spoke true.

Before he or Torwen could correct him, however, a small group of elves had appeared silently, bows drawn and arrows knocked. The ellon standing in front had long blonde hair not quite as light as his own and looked quite pompous in Legolas' opinion.

"The dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark." He sneered, looking down his nose at Gimli.

*Haldir of Lórien, we come here for you help.* Aragorn said urgently. *We need protection.*

"Aragorn!" Gimli hissed. "These woods are perilous, we should go back!"

"You have entered the realm of the Lady of the Wood. You cannot go back."

"Do not be so dour, Haldir." Torwen said suddenly, moving to stand in front of the group of elves. "It does not suit you." She continued, a teasing tone to her voice.

*Manwe, I am happy you see you, dear one.* The ellon sighed, wrapping his arms around the flame haired she-elf. *You scared me halfway to Mandos Halls when I heard you had joined this quest.*

Legolas felt a strange heat boil up in his gut when he heard the affection in Haldir's voice. And when the man brought his hand up to the elleth's cheek he had to look away. It had never occurred to him that his oldest friend may have acquired a suitor, and he wasn't quite sure why the idea upset him so.

*I'm happy to see you healthy and whole.*

*Well, mostly.* Torwen replied, sounding sheepish.

*You're injured.* Haldir sighed, the way he said it made it sound like it wasn't an uncommon occurance. "Come, we head for the outpost."

It took them less than an hour to reach the guard post, which was a wooden flet near the canopy, but smythe sun was nearing the horizon by the time they reached it. The flet was only accessible via a small platform raised with a pulley system. They ascended two and three at a time, and by the time Legolas has stepped onto the flet, Torwen was already seated and tending to her wounded side, assisted by Haldir.

Haldir had informed them self importantly as they traveled to the flet that he was the Marchwarden of the Ghaladrhim. The burning in Legolas' stomach had persisted as he watched the she-elf of their company walk side by side with the stoic Lórien warrior, heads bowed together in quiet conversation. And it flared again now as he saw them seated closely together on a low wooden bench.

Finally the two stood and Haldir came to greet them all formally.

"Welcome Legolas, son of Thandruil.* He intoned, holding a fist to his chest before extending his hand out in greeting.

*Our fellowship stands in your debt.* Legolas replied, forcing down the bitterness that rose in his throat. *Haldir of Lórien.* He added respectfully.

*Aragorn of the Dunedain. You are known to us.* The Marchwarden said, repeating his hand gesture of greeting as the ranger inclined his head.

"So much for the legendary courtesy of the elves." Gimli muttered. "Speak words we can all understand." He damanded gruffly.

"We have not had dealings with the dwarves since the dark days." Haldir informed the dwarf darkly.

Legolas struggled to keep the smirk from his face when Gimli crudely spat an insult toward their host in his own tongue. Aragorn, however, was not so entertained.

"That was not so courteous." He scolded, grabbing the dwarf by the arm roughly.

Haldir simply arched a brow before his roved over the remainder of the fellowship, inspecting the hobbits curiously. When his eyes met Frodo's he froze, a shadow passing over his haughty features.

"You bring great evil with you." He nearly whispered. "You can go no further." He announced with finality, striding away from them.

"Haldir!" Torwen exclaimed indignantly, but Aragorn cut her off with a wave of his arm as he followed the Marchwarden to the far end of the flet.

They argued in hushed and urgent whispers for a few moments before finally returning to the fellowship.

"You will follow me." Haldir stated simply before leading them back down to the forest floor.

Evening was well and truly upon them as they journeyed beneath the trees. The heat that had been simmering in Legolas' gut had cooled when Torwen had chosen his company over that of the stoic Marchwarden, leaving him to walk with Aragorn ahead of the rest of the group. As they walked, the ellon again marveled at the trees of silver and gold that made up the forest of Lothlórien. They seemed to reflect the light of the setting sun as it slanted through the trees, so that the very trees themselves appeared to glow with an ethereal light.

*Does it make you miss home?* Torwen asked quietly from beside him, her green eyes shining from the light of the trees.

*The two forests are so different that to try to compare them would be a disservice.* Legolss admitted. *Though I am happy to be under the familiar comfort of trees once again.*

*I have missed Mirkwood.* The elleth said, sounding almost wistful. *But I felt I should respect my father's wishes.*

*Mirkwood is the Greenwood no longer. I fear the darkness will never fully lift.*

Gently, Torwen reached over and squeezed his fingers, smiling at him as she did so. The heat returned to his belly.

*It will. That's why we're here. To restore peace and dispel darkness.*

It took them nearly thrice as long to reach their destination as it had to reach the guard's flet. Eventually Haldir stopped atop a small rise and smiled softly at the sight before him before sweeping his arm out, drawing their eyes to the city in the trees.

"Caras Galadhon. The heart of elvendom on earth." He announced proudly. "Realm of Lord Celeborn, and of Galadriel, Lady of Light."

The descended into the city and Legolas found himself awestruck by the structures and architecture within the elven kingdom. It seemed that most of the elves of this realm lived in homes high above the ground, accessed at connected by twisting wooden staircases and walkways high off the forest floor. Everywhere the ethereal glow of the trees cast soft shadows, throwing all angles of the structures into sharp relief.

The Marchwarden led them into the very heart of the city, and up a steep wooden staircase. He left them on another flet before leaving them to ascend another set of stairs. As they waited Legolas peered around the flet curiously. It was all silver wood, with a golden ceiling overhead and was left open with no walls, the trunk of a mallorn tree supporting the structure.

They did not wait long before two blonde elves descended the stairs to stand before them on the flet, both wore white and both had pale blonde hair. The male, Lord Celeborn, had a regal look about him; while the woman, Lady Galadriel, seemed to glow with the same ethereal light as the trees that she dwelt within. Both elves appeared ageless as they assessed the fellowship gathered before them.

"Nine there are, yet ten there were set out from Rivendell." Celeborn spoke, his voice nearly monotonous were it not for the rhythmic cadence. "Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him."

The fellowship remained silent. None wishing to speak the fate of the wizard aloud.

"He has fallen into shadow." Galadriel intoned softly, peering at them all curiously.

"A Balrog of Morgoth." Legolas confirmed grimly.

"The Quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all." The Lady warned, her gaze seeming to penetrate their very souls. "Yet hope remains while the company is true."

Galadriel held Legolas' gaze for a moment, before her voice sounded softly in his head. _That which you envy has not come to pass, young prince._ Legolas furrowed his brow, puzzled; but the Lady spoke again.

"Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest for you are weary with sorrow and much toil." She encouraged them softly. "Haldir is waiting below to show you to the pavilion that has been prepared for you."

The fellowship turned to descend from the flet when Lord Celeborn called out after them.

"Torwen, a word please, granddaughter."

So without Torwen the men of the fellowship were led by Haldir to a large pavilion strung up between a few trunks of the mallorn trees. Nestled within the tall roots of the trees were cushions and blankets for lounging and sleeping. In a natural corner created by two close standing trees was a basin of water for washing hands and face, and beside that a small table filled with fruits and nuts.

"And what has had your beard in a knot, laddy?" Gimli rumbled, already lounging on a cushion and stuffing his pipe with pipe weed. "You've been tense nearly since we've arrived. Thought you'd be happy to be in a forest."

"Truly I do not know." Legolas sighed. "I feel that we are safe here, but still I feel uneasy."

"Well I am happy to see the back of that Marchwarden." The dwarf said around a lungful of smoke. "I didn't much care for him."

Legolas chuckled, grinning down at the russet haired dwarf. Feeling a.bit reassured that perhaps he wasn't the only member of their group with a strange feeling in his gut, Legolas began to divest himself of his weapons.

 **I have had a hell of a time with this update, y'all. For whatever reason it didn't save the first time and I had to rewrite the whole thing again from scratch.** **I have recieved zero reviews on the last chapter and would really love reviews this time around. I did recieve a rather rude PM and to that user, if you have anything else negative to say, I ask that you please post it in the reviews.** **See you next time, T**


	8. The Celebration of Life

**I am so very sorry this update has taken so long! We celebrated my daughter's first birthday right after Thanksgiving and Christmas preparations and celebrations had my full attention.** **Here is quite a long update and I hope you all enjoy it!**

...

Torwen watched the fellowship leave the flet before turning back to her grandparents. She didn't hesitate to embrace Lord Celeborn when he opened his arms to her.

*I am sorry that I did not consult with you before volunteering to accompany Frodo.* Torwen said quietly as she moved to embrace her grandmother next. *There simply wasn't time.*

*Your parents would be proud.* Galdriel assured the elleth, pulling back to place a hand on her cheek. *You favor him so.* She sighed, searching her granddaughter's face wistfully.

Torwen sat with her grandparents for nearly an hour, recounting for them the fellowship's journey so far. And though she was loath to do so, the elleth went into great detail about their trek through the mines. When she asked her grandmother if Mithrandir was truly gone, she would only say that there was always hope.

*Go now. Wash up and take your rest. Tonight there will be a celebration of life in the wizard's honor.* Her grandfather informed her after they had spent nearly an hour together.

*Your flet is ready for you.* Galadriel added, pulling her granddaughter into another embrace.

*I have no need for it.* Torwen admonished with a wave of her hand as she pulled away from her grandmother. *I will stay with the fellowship.*

Her grandmother smiled knowingly and nodded her head.

*They are in the largest clearing, just before the bathing pools.*

Haldir was waiting for her at the base of the large mallorn tree that held her grandparent's flet. He insisted on carrying her pack for her and accompanying her to the clearing.

*It has been quiet without you.* The Marchwarden commented, and Torwen sensed the teasing in his tone.

*Yes well. I thought perhaps you'd like to go a bit without suffering from a headache.* She retorted, her mouth twisting into a grin.

*You and the Sinda seem close.*

Torwen fought a bewildering blush and felt an odd burning in her stomach.

*Legolas is a very old friend, Haldir. You know that.*

*Yes. A friend, of course.* Her normally dour friend donned a mischievous smirk.

*Nothing more.* Torwen affirmed with a small wave of her hand, as if to brush any thoughts to the contrary away.

Haldir decided not to tease her any further and they continued on in silence. The sun was nearly below the horizon and the mallorn forest was set ablaze in hues of pink and gold. The very trees themselves seemed to radiate light as the rays of sunlight slanted through the trunks.

In the distance, they could hear elves signing a slow and sorrowful lament for Mithrandir. The voices combined with the magical glow of the silver trees instilled a feeling of homesickness in the elleth. For the first time she felt some semblance of regret for agreeing to accompany Frodo. There was no denying that she very much missed her home.

*Here is where I leave you.* Haldir commented, snapping Torwen out of her brooding thoughts and back to the present.

She was surprised to find that they had arrived into the guest clearing. There were large canvases strung between the trunks of the trees, forming low roofs over the nests of roots below. Within the hollows of the roots were poufs and pillows, along with blankets. There would be no need for bedrolls here, the grass beneath the mallorn trees was softer than any cotton or down fill.

The fellowship were sprawled out amongst the clearing. The hobbits all grouped together inside one alcove of roots, Merry and Pippin were chattering animatedly over plates of food while Frodo stared off dazedly, Sam appeared to be dozing off with his chin tucked to his chest. Boromir sat off on his lonesome, his head dropped into his hands with his fingers weaved into his hair. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli all sat within another alcove, the ranger and the dwarf puffing on their pipes while the ellon examined and cleaned his twin blades intently.

*Will I see you tonight?* The elleth asked hopefully.

*No. I must return to the border outpost.*

She sighed disappointedly, bringing a slender hand up to rest upon her friend's cheek. She searched his face for a moment before embracing him tightly. He tensed for a moment before relenting and returning her embrace, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat.

*Try to have some fun without me, Haldir. I worry for you while I am away.* She teased, pulling back from their embrace.

*I assure you, I will be fine little one.* He demurred, dropping a quick kiss to the top of her head before fully pulling away. *Come back to me, safe and healthy.* He commanded quietly, turning and walking away from the clearing.

Torwen turned back to the fellowship and caught Legolas' eyes on her. Again, she fought that frustrating blush from climbing up her neck.

"There are bathing pools just down the path south of here. The first is for the men, I'll be using the women's a little further down." She called out, catching the attention of the rest of the group. "You can leave your soiled clothes and they will be attended to, washed and mended, and returned here tomorrow. There will be a celebration of life in honor of Gandalf tonight and we are all expected to attend."

She turned to her pack and searched for the dress Arwen had insisted she pack for occasions such as this.

"Celebration? That hardly seems fitting." She heard Boromir admonish glumly.

"It is the way of the elves." Legolas replied simply. "Do you not hear them mourning now? The lament of Mithrandir. They will sing until the celebration begins."

"Bet they don't mention his fireworks." Sam mumbled from his resting spot.

Aragorn began to sing his own lament for their lost friend and Torwen took the opportunity to slip out of the clearing and make her way to the bathing pools before anyone saw the tears in her eyes.

As he bathed, all Legolas could think about was the way her hair blazed in the light of the setting sun. He had never noticed before the way it caught the light and seemed to intensify it.

His thoughts turned down a darker route as he dried and dressed in fresh clothes. He hadn't intended to eavesdrop when Torwen had arrived with the Marchwarden at her side, but elven hearing often made it nearly impossible not to. That strange burning in the pit of his abdomen had returned when he heard their sentimental farewells, and he had thought that surely the flames would consume him when he glanced up to see the Marchwarden touch his lips to the crown of the elleth's head.

He braided his hair with deft fingers as he made his way back to their clearing, still ruminating on the strange feeling in his stomach. He caught the fresh scent of pine and roses. Her scent was familiar and soothed the heat in his abdomen. She was perched atop a large root, she had donned a white slip of a dress and forgone shoes. The grass underfoot was soft and forgiving and there was no need for boots under the shelter of the mallorn trees.

*Shall I help you?* He called out, indicating her hair. It was still damp and she had been separating the flaming tresses with her slim fingers.

*Thank you, Legolas. That would be lovely.*

He had tended her hair before, when they were but elflings under the protection of his father's halls. He knew just the way she preferred her hair to be braided and new that she had a bit of a tender scalp. His motions were familiar and well practiced but still he found his hands shaking as he braided all but a few loose strands from about her face.

*It's done.* He said, after clearing his throat and knotting his trembling hands in front of him.

She reached up to feel the plait and then turned to smile at him. The burning intensified.

*Shall we go? The others have already gone ahead and I fear there will be no wine left should we leave the hobbits too long!*

He chuckled and they left the pavilion together, following the path set for them marked by lanterns hanging from the boughs of the silver and gold trees. The trees still seemed to glow with the ethereal light, made all the brighter by the moon now slung low near the eastern horizon. The elleth next to him appeared to shine herself, all the brighter due to the white shift that draped closely over her form.

*You seem close with the Marchwarden.* He commented offhandedly, doing his best to ignore the simmering heat.

*Haldir? Yes I suppose we are.* She replied, a small smile pulling up her mouth. *Once I realized I would not be returning to your father's halls, I joined the Galadhrim and we became fast companions and nearly inseparable. He has been a great comfort to me when I would have been very lonely.*

They walked in silence for a time, the only sound to be heard the soft whisper of the grass underfoot and the hem of her gown dusting the forest floor.

*He quite reminds me of you.* She admitted eventually, and then laughed at the disgruntled look that must have crossed his face. *Oh, Haldir is not so serious as he seems. He is mischievous in his own way, he only takes his position rather seriously.*

*I fail to see the resemblance.* Legolas sniffed defensively.

*Hmm. Yes perhaps you are right. He is not quite so pompous as you, princeling.* She retorted jovially, and quirked a brow, challenging him to deny it.

*You little imp.* Came his reply, and he reached out to push her playfully.

But the elleth was already out of his reach, having sprinted ahead. She glanced over her shoulder at him and laughed loudly when she saw him trying to catch her. And her laughter doused the fire within him. He could almost imagine they were elflings again, playing in one of the protected groves of the Greenwood.

They ran and laughed together until they reached the edge of a large clearing, much larger than the one they were to stay in. It was lit using the same lanterns that had guided them there and everywhere elves stood talking, laughing. Some were playing music on harps and flutes, while others danced a quick step to the upbeat tempo. The Lord and Lady perched themselves upon two small thrones at the head of the clearing, surveying the merrymaking with small smiles.

Along one side of the clearing were tables laden with food, and caskets of free flowing wine. The hobbits were of course to be found there, as was Gimli. Aragorn and Boromir were sat against a large tree a small distance away, talking quietly amongst one another over goblets of wine. Upon seeing them, Aragorn waved them over.

*I will get us some refreshment. I will join you in a moment.* Torwen assured him, sending him on his way to the two men.

"Did you have any trouble finding this gathering?" Aragorn asked once he had joined him and Boromir against the trunk of the tree.

"No, the lanterns were quite helpful."

"We only wondered what was taking so long." Boromir mused, quickly taking a sip from his goblet to hide a smirk.

Legolas, confused, looked to Aragorn. The ranger simply lifted a shoulder before tipping his head in the direction of the refreshment tables. Glancing over, the ellon saw Torwen standing amongst the hobbits and Gimli, her head thrown back in laughter.

He felt a heat rise up his neck and the slow simmering heat returned to his stomach.

"I helped her braid her hair." He replied dismissively.

"Indeed." Was all Aragorn said, a twinkle in his eye now.

"I'm not sure what you're trying to imply, Estel." Legolas demurred.

At that moment, Torwen joined them, along with Gimli. The elleth was juggling two goblets of wine as well as a plate of fruit as she sat gracefully, her legs folded beneath her. She sat the plate between them and he reached for one of the goblets but she pulled it back and offered him the other.

"This one is mine, it's red. I got white for you." She explained.

"Ah, you remembered!" He exclaimed, gratefully taking a sip of the sweet pale liquid.

From the corner of his eye he saw Aragorn and Boromir smirking and wondered absently how many goblets they had sunk between themselves before his arrival.

Torwen was starting to feel just the slightest bit dizzy. If she turned her head too quickly, the mallorn trees took just a second longer than usual to right themselves. The hobbits had joined them for a while, and they had ensconced the whole fellowship into drinking more wine than was entirely necessary. Now she watched as Merry and Pippin carved a path through the elvish dancers, leaving the taller forms laughing as they passed.

She had made two passes of the clearing, greeting acquaintances and strangers alike. Legolas had joined her for one round, having been caught at the drink table. She knew he had never overly enjoyed his rank as a prince, but he never seemed to forget his court manners as he politely took elleth's hands between his own and introduced himself.

Legolas' form was warm beside her, his shoulder nearly pressed to hers as they shared a second plate of fruit. She was struggling to forget the strange fire she had felt inside of her as she had watched Legolas charm the elleths.

"I see now, why they call it a celebration of life." Boromir said suddenly. "I believe Gandalf would have very much enjoyed this."

"M'lady. Maybe we have this dance?" Merry asked poshly, as he and Pippin both bowed and extended a hand to her.

She accepted and found herself giggling as they hauled her behind them to the designated dancing area. Soon she was laughing uncontrollably as she tried to imitate the complicated jig the hobbits seemed to enjoy. For two songs she danced with them before she exclaimed that she must have a drink of wine.

They returned to the tree that propped up their friends and she smiled gratefully when Legolas handed her a goblet of sweet red wine. She and Legolas had danced together many times in his father's realm. The woodland elves were so very fond of dancing.

"Will you not dance with me, Legolas?" She wondered as she bent to set her goblet down.

"I have not danced in many years, dear friend."

"All the more reason. Come on!" Torwen urged, holding her hand out to him.

He seemed to contemplate her hand for a moment before his face split into a grin and he took her hand, allowing himself to be pulled up and away.

"Are all elves so graceful?" Boromir questioned, as they watched the red haired elleth and the blonde haired ellon twirl around the clearing.

"I think none more so than our two friends when they are together." Aragorn replied with a grin.

"Are they..." Sam began awkwardly, a blush creeping across his cheeks. "I do not know much of the customs of elves. Are they betrothed?"

Aragorn shook his head firmly, but a twinkle remained in his eye as he surveyed the two elves now dancing a complicated step.

"They have known each other longer than all of our lives combined." The ranger explained. "I have known them both since I was a child and since that time they have been separated by the darkness. I believe they are simply glad to be reunited."

They were spinning, faster than any other folk in the clearing. Hands outstretched to the other and turning until the trees were but a blur in the outside of his vision. The hasty braid he had plaited into her hair had come undone and her fiery tresses were flying about her head like a wild fire, matching the fire that blazed in his stomach.

Perhaps it was the copious amount of wine consumed under the light of the lanterns and the moon, but Legolas realized he had never noticed how her eyes matched the green of the leaves of his home. He longed for their journey to be at an end, for the darkness to be defeated, so that they might spend long days lounging beneath the boughs of the Greenwood once more

He began a complicated quick step that his companion mirrored effortlessly and they both laughed. What a sight they must be, prancing about as if they were young elflings again.

He had not danced like this in many years. He had not danced like this because none but Torwen could keep pace with him, step for step as she did now.

The fire in his belly spread to his chest and he thought it would consume him wholly.

 **Well there it is! Thank you all so much for the reviews last chapter! And welcome to my new followers and favoriters! I hope you've enjoyed this update and will let me know your thoughts!** **-T**


	9. The Faithful

**Just a quick update for you today! Enjoy!**

Torwen woke just as the first light of dawn tinted the sky. A light mist had settled within the wood as the fellowship slumbered and dew was sprinkled on the supple grass underfoot and glittered on the golden leaves high overhead. The elleth stood quietly, stretching her arms over her head.

The fuzziness of the wine had left and she felt quite well rested. But the contentedness she had felt during the celebration had left, replaced once again by the heavy weight of grief and darkness. Quickly, careful not to disturb the rest of her companions, she padded out of the pavilion and made her way into the forest. She sought only solitude, with no particular destination in mind.

In time, Torwen came to a small brook. The sun was now halfway above the horizon and golden beams of sunlight filtered through the leaves to sparkle within the tumbling water. She knelt at the bank, watching the clear liquid as it swirled around the smooth pebbles before dipping her hands in to splash water onto her face. Drying her face with the hem of her dress, she rocked back onto her heels. With her knees pulled to her chest and her forehead dropped to her knees, she sat still as a statue and silently prayed to their maker.

*Torwen? Are you well?* Legolad wondered aloud.

Her head snapped up and whipped around to glare at him and he took a step back. He had never seen that look on her face before, at least not directed at him. But soon enough her features softened and he saw the tears that brimmed in her green eyes. She sniffled and turned her head away.

Legolas had awoken to find the she-elf gone, but he had had no difficulty tracking her light steps through the dew. He found her hunkered at the bank of a small stream, white dress from the night before still draped over her form. Her red hair had fallen about her face like a curtain, obscuring her face.

*Are you well?* He asked again, moving closer.

She shook her head rapidly, still refusing to meet his eye. Torwen had always been jovial and carefree, he couldn't imagine what must be on her mind.

*What troubles you?* He inquired quietly, dropping down to kneel beside her. *Torwen?*

*Has Eru forsaken us, Legolas?*

Her voice was hardly a whisper. Legolas felt his chest tighten at the hopelessness in her voice. Before he could offer any words of comfort she was speaking again.

*I can think of no other reason that this would be happening. This darkness that claws at my heart and threatens the very world that He created.* She swallowed thickly and turned watery, red eyes to him. *Has He forsaken us?* She asked once more.

*No. Of course He hasn't.*

Legolas didn't hesitate to wrap his companion in his arms, holding her to his chest.

*We must simply have faith and trust in His plan for us.*

He felt her nod her head against his chest and squeezed her a bit tighter.

*Shall we pray together?* He asked, and again she nodded.

So they knelt, side by side with hands linked and they prayed silently. They prayed until the sun was nearly halfway to its midday peak. Until Torwen released his hand and moved closer to the edge of the stream, cupping her hands and bringing a drink of the cool water to her mouth.

*Thank you, Legolas.* She said finally, flashing him a small smile. *Forgive me, friend. I should not be so quick to dispair.*

Standing, he brushed away her apology with a wave of his hand.

*Come, let us return to the others.*

*You go. I would like to stay here a while longer. It is so peaceful here.* Torwen sighed, laying back on the forest floor to gaze up through the golden leaves. *I will return before midday.* She assured him.

When Legolas returned to the pavilion, only Aragorn was present. The ranger explained that the others had all taken their leave of the clearing to bathe or to roam the peaceful woods.

"And where have you been?" The man asked curiously.

"With Torwen." Legolas responded simply, making his way to the table that held an assortment of fresh foods.

"Oh?"

"She- she is not well, Aragorn." The ellon commented concernedly. "I fear the presence of the ring weighs heavily on her heart."

"As it does to us all."

Legolas made a small noise of agreement as he perched himself on a root and popped a grape into his mouth.

"Will you tell her how you feel? You know we are not guaranteed to survive this." His friend warned.

Legolas heaved a sigh and rolled a second grape between his slender fingers. He could not deny it. Aragorn knew him too well. The ellon had stayed awake long after the rest of the fellowship had fallen asleep, brooding over the burning in his chest.

At first he had assumed the burning in his stomach was simply a feeling of overprotectiveness towards his friend. He realized now it was the heat of jealousy, jealousy seeing her with the marchwarden. And then the fire had spread to his chest, where it simmered even now, like the last embers of a long burning fire.

And with a start, he had realized it. He had fallen for her. Whether it had started when they were young and intensified when they were reunited or if it had happened quickly as they journeyed together with the fellowship, he was unsure. Either way was of no consequence to him, for he was quite confident that she was bound to another. He could not be with her.

"No, I will not." He finally replied, refusing to meet Aragorn's eyes.

"Legolas, you-" But the ellon cut him off, eyes blazing.

"I said I will not." Legolas stated firmly. "It is my belief that she has already promised herself to another." He continued, his voice quiet.

"The marchwarden." Aragorn uttered in sudden understanding.

Legolas nodded his head miserably, returning the plate of food to the table, his appetite gone.

"I would not stand in her way, if she is happy."

"You are a good man, Legolas." Aragorn intoned, clapping a supportive hand to the elf's shoulder. "And I hope that you are mistaken."

Torwen made her way back to the pavilion slowly. The elleth had felt much better after praying with Legolas. His calm and steady support was well received and had been one of the things she had missed the most in their time apart.

After he left her side however, she found herself ruminating on another matter entirely. What was this fire that burned incessantly within her? Perhaps she was ill? But it was very rare for elves to fall ill and as far as she knew, she was the picture of health. No, she wasn't ill.

With a sigh she heaved herself up and started to make her way back to the pavilion, still pondering. Perhaps it had something to do with the ring? But then why wasn't it constant? This was a different feeling from the darkness that snared about her heart in the presence of the ring. No, it wouldn't be the ring.

Torwen reached the edge of the clearing and stopped, barely stifling the gasp of surprise that threatened to escape. She had caught sight of the silver haired ellon and the realization had hit her just as surely as if she had walked into a tree.

It was Legolas. Legolas was the only common denominator.

 **In response to guest reviewer Olddantrucker: Thank you for your review. I assure you this train is headed exactly where I intend it to go. I've mapped all of my major plot points and am convinced that by the end it will all fall together quite nicely. Thank you again for your review.** **Please leave me a review and I'll see you all again soon!** **-T**


	10. The Lie

Days stretched into weeks as the Fellowship rested under the golden eaves of the malorn trees. Idle days were occupied with rest and good food. The hobbits most often found themselves wandering the vast gardens and sheltered glens of the peaceful wood. The men of the group passed their time sparring with one another, hoping to keep their battle skills sharp.

Torwen had taken to keeping herself busy visiting friends that lived within Lórien. That included Haldir's younger brothers, Rúmil and Orophin. She considered the two ellons good friends, despite them being centuries younger than her and their incessant knack for teasing her ceaselessly.

She's gone and caught herself a prince, Rúmil!* Orophin chortled as he hauled himself to a high branch.

The way they danced at the celebration! Why, it's all anyone can talk-OOF!* Rúmil was cut off by a large branch catching him across the face, courtesy of Torwen.

Are you two quite finished?* Torwen demanded from her perch above the two brothers.

The elleth was twisting loose strands of her own hair into a tight braid. The long string was approaching her own height in it's length.

Is it not true then?* Rúmil asked, rubbing his cheek as he and Orophin joined her on the wide branch.

Legolas is naught but an old and dear friend.* Torwen muttered sourly, twisting a strand too tightly and snapping it.

The ellons shared a glance when Torwen hissed a curse under her breath. The brothers had rarely seen the elleth so harried. A good bout of teasing was usually enough to bring her around.

What's this?* Orophin wondered, plucking the long braid from her hand to examine it.

A gift for her beloved prince, perhaps.* Rúmil mused.

It is a simple bowstring.* Torwen grumbled, ignoring the burning at the tips of her ears as she snatched the strand back. *I will take my leave.* She clipped out as she tucked the string into a pocket of her tunic before dropping to a lower branch.

As she descended the great tree, she heard the two ellons arguing in hushed voices above her and sighed. The elleth knew her friends meant well, but her fëa seemed to constrict at the mere mention of Legolas.

Since the celebration of Gandalf, Torwen had endeavored to avoid the silver haired ellon at all costs. The realization of her feelings for the prince were painful and futile. King Thranduil would never allow his heir to bind himself to someone such as her. Thranduil viewed the preservation of pure Sindar bloodlines as an issue of utmost importance. Despite Torwen's high upbringing, her ancestry would be tainted in his eyes.

More importantly, Legolas was her friend. He would never view her as anything but, of that the elleth was sure. And unrequited love meant fading. If Torwen didn't find some way to squash these newfound emotions within her, she would fade. Her fëa would whither away into nothing and she along with it. She would never sail west to the Undyinh Lands to be reunited with her kin. Fading was a terrible fate that no elf desired.

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, the flame haired elleth was surprised to find that she had mindlessly wandered back to the pavilion the Fellowship was currently occupying. She had considered sleeping in her flet during their stay, but frustratingly discovered that she found no rest on her own, having become so accustomed to being surrounded by her companions as she slept.

Instantly, she found her eyes roving to the prince that was causing her such grief. She had never taken the time to notice just how perfectly the silver sheet of his hair fell about his strong shoulders. Nor the way his proud, high cheekbones drew her gaze directly to his steely blue orbs.

The ellon's gaze settled on her and she fought the heat creeping up her neck towards her pointed ears as she tore her eyes away from his to land on Boromir and Gimli, who currently were entrapped in a playful duel. Currently, the dwarf appeared to be winning. What he lacked in stature, he more than made up for in tenacity. Each heavy stroke of his axe caused the Gondorian to stumble until his back was pinned to a tree. Torwen thought surely Boromir would call for mercy. But just as Gimli brought his great axe sailing towards him, the man ducked to the side, the axe missing him by a hair and sunk into the trunk of the tree. Gimli growled in frustration as he struggled to wrench his weapon free but it was too late. Boromir forced the dwarf to his knees with his sword at his throat.

"Well fought, Master Gimli!" Boromir said jovially as he helped the dwarf to his feet.

"I would like to request a rematch." Ginly huffed, finally pulling his axe free from the trunk of the malorn tree.

"Perhaps another time. I wish to spar with the lady." The Gondorian grinned, turning to Torwen. "I've sparred with hobbits, a ranger, even an elven prince. But never had I dreamed I would have the chance to battle an elven lady."

Torwen grinned, perhaps a training session would turn her mind to other, less tumultuous thoughts. The elleth removed her bow and quiver and propped them against a nearby tree and rolled her shoulders as she moved to stand across from Boromir.

"Will you not draw your weapon?" The man queried, brows drawn in confusion.

"I doubt I'd find a use for it." The elleth admitted easily.

Behind her, Aragorn barked out a laugh.

"We shall see." Boromir taunted as he stepped towards her.

Their spar was over quickly. Boromir was strong, with good instincts. But though he was quick for a man, Torwen found no challenge in beating him. The Gondorian was laid flat upon his back on the soft grass within less than a minute.

"Well fought, Master Boromir." Torwen chided playfully, extending a hand to assist the man up.

"I do not understand. Even Legolas did not best me so quickly." The Gondorian admitted, sheathing his sword.

"Legolas is stronger than I, but he is not quite so quick." Torwen shrugged in explanation.

"And yet, she has never beaten me." The prince quipped from behind Boromir.

Torwen scowled, the remark a bruise to her ego. It was true, in all the years they had sparred together she had never been able to defeat the ellon.

"Perhaps I let you win. To protect that delicate royal ego."

"I very much doubt that, my friend." Legolas grinned, stepping passed Boromir and drawing his twin blades.

Torwen fought to hide the pain she felt when he called her _friend._ Of course, she reminded herself, she would never be anything but. Regardless, she drew her curved blade from its sheath at her hip and crossed it with one of Legolas' own blades, a customary show of respect between elves at the start of a bout.

For nearly a whole minute they stared each other down, neither willing to step towards the other first. Finally Legolas grew impatient and swung his free blade around at the elleth. Torwen was quick to spin away to the left, bringing her sword around to meet her friend's second blade as it arced towards her ribs.

The men and dwarf were enthralled by the whirling of red and silver hair, entranced by the ringing of three fine blades meeting and skimming together. It seemed neither would ever gain the upper hand. Until finally Torwen brought her sword down over her head in both hands and Legolas caught it in crossed twin blades mere inches before his face.

Now Torwen's curved sword was trapped. Legolas took advantage of the situation and pushed the blunt edge of her blade closer to the elleth's face, taking a step forward as he did so. But Torwen refused to step down, though her arms her trembling with exertion.

Stop this now, my friend. And end this with dignity.* The ellon murmered, his lips inches from her ear.

The proximity, taunting, and that awful word inscenced the flame haired elleth. And Legolas faltered when she hissed in frustration. The instant of hesitation was enough for Torwen to shove their blades away to the side. Both elves lost grip of their weapons and Legolas stumbled back in surprise.

Torwen took the opportunity to try to get the advantage of higher ground on her opponent. She leapt up and grappled to find a hold on a low hanging branch. Before she could haul herself up, Legolas had recovered and grabbed her round the ankles, pulling her unceremoniously to the ground.

With a smirk he knelt over her, his silver hair falling in a straight curtain around them. He thought surely he had won. But the elleth refused to surrender and sprung to her feet, settling into a low crouched stance that she preferred for hand to hand combat.

The prince sprinted towards her, intending to throw his whole body weight into her to knock her back. But the elleth was quicker and dipped to the side, rolling out of sight behind one of the large trunks of the malorn trees. Torwen took a moment to catch her breath until her sharp ears heard the ellon creeping around the tree, hoping to surprise her.

Quickly, she ducked around the other side to find Legolas' back to her. Torwen leapt towards her opponent, her hands grabbing his shoulders as her legs swung wide. She used the momentum to drag him to the ground and smirked down at him triumphantly as her fingers closed lightly around his throat.

I should think my dignity is intact.* The elleth uttered, grinning at the dumbstruck expression on the prince's face.

It was then the elleth realized the situation she had landed herself in. She felt her hips rising and falling with each intake of breath the ellon took, and her nose was inches from his. His cerulean gaze was stormy with something she couldn't read and the fire in her belly was burning her from the inside out.

Torwen scrambled back and stood upright before turning to pick up her sword, turning her back to Legolas as she did so in an attempt to hide the blush crawling up her neck.

"Oh ho ho! Well done, lass!" Gimli chuckled, and Torwen turned to see the dwarf supporting himself with his axe. "Let that knock some sense into you, princeling!"

Legolas glared at the dwarf as he dusted himself off. He turned to congratulate his friend on a job well done but the elleth was already slipping out of the clearing, her copper hair flowing behind her as she dissapeared around the silver trunk of a tree.

As he collected his blades, the ellon frowned. Torwen seemed troubled, and he briefly wondered if perhaps it was more than the fear she had confessed to him the morning after their arrival to the golden wood.

But he had his own worries to preoccupy him. The fire inside him that had burned down to a quiet summer was now raging like a wild fire in his gut after their bout. What was he to do? He could still smell the roses and pine of her hair on his skin. He had to find some way to douse this fire within him before it consumed him.

"I'm going to the bathing pools." The ellon announced, hauling his pack over his shoulder and departing the pavilion.

Legolas had scarcely bathed Torwen's scent from his skin and dressed in fresh clothes when Aragorn arrived, looking concerned. The prince watched the ranger closely as he braided his hair. The man's face was drawn, his mouth set into a grim line.

You left suddenly.* Aragorn observed quietly.

I simply wished the bathe. We trained hard today." Legolas dismissed.

Will you fade?* The ranger asked bluntly, and Legolas' shoulders stiffened.

I have considered it.* The blonde ellon admitted quietly. *But if she is happy, I believe I can live with the circumstances.*

I believe you are lying to yourself, my friend.* Aragorn intoned, settling a hand briefly to his friend's shoulder before taking his leave.

 **I would like to take a moment to apologize for disappearing for these last few months. I started working full time again, we bought a new house, and life has just in general been crazy. I will try to be better from here on out! Please review and let me know what you think. Next update we will be leaving Lórien!**

 **-T**


	11. The Anduin

The Fellowship was gathered on the banks of the Anduin, the great river that ran from north to south through most of the land. All of the company had been cloaked in the sage green of the folks of Lóthlorien, the cloaks clasped about their necks with emerald green broaches in the shape of malorn leaves. Now the Fellowship received individual gifts from the Lord and Lady.

*Open this at the end of everything, my brave granddaughter.* Galadriel instructed as Celeborn passed Torwen a small velvet bag.

It was not very heavy, and felt as though it were stuffed full of fabric. The elleth was confused but knew better than to question the wisdom of her grandmother.

When Legolas received a Galadhrim bow that matched Torwen's own, she felt as if the bowstring she had constructed was burning a hole in the pocket of her tunic. Rulim andÓrophin had been correct in their assumptions/ The elleth had absentmindedly begun braiding the strands when her grandmother had mentioned bestowing the prince with a new bow. Now that the bowstring was waxed and complete, and the prince had the bow in his possession, Torwen was doubting her gift. A bowstring made of one's own hair was considered quite the intimate gift, usually to a warrior from their mate.

Would the ellon turn his nose up at such a gift? No, Legolas was anything but rude. He would never refuse a gift from a friend. But what if her gift made him uncomfortable, and caused the ellon to distance himself from her?

True, the elleth had distanced herself from the prince during their stay in the Golden Wood, but during that time Torwen had come to the conclusion that being parted from him was more painful than having him near. She had already been parted from her friends for many years, and was loath to be so again.

A hand at her elbow pulled Torwen from her ruminations. The elleth turned and grinned when she saw the blonde Marchwarden before her.

*Haldir, I did not expect to see you before we departed.*

*What a friend would I be if I neglected to see you off?* The ellon smirked minutely before his features smoothed seriously once again. *Please, take care little one.*

*You always have worried so, my friend.* Torwen chastised quietly, wrapping her arms about the ellon's shoulders and pulling him to her.

*Let the prince protect you.* Haldir muttered near her ear, causing the elleth to pull back in confusion. *Even now, he watches over you.* He continued, raising his brows and throwing a glance over Torwen's shoulder.

The elleth turned quickly to see the silver haired prince watching her from the corner of his eye as he loaded the boats they would be traveling in. Torwen turned back to Haldir, whose smirk had widened when the elleth's blush reached the tips of her ears.

*Legolas is watchful of us all.* The elleth sniffed dismissively.

*As you say.* The Marchwarden intoned, humor coloring his usually stoic voice.

He dipped into a shallow bow before turning and walking away.

Legolas quickly adverted his gaze when the elleth turned towards him the second time. He thought the farwell between Torwen and the Marchwarden had been rather lacking for two who were betrothed. But then, he reasoned, the had just caught him watching them moments before.

The ellon couldn't help himself. Aragorn was right. For all he wanted to be happy for his friend, the jealousy burned him up inside.

"Don't know why you're looking so sour." Gimli grumbled from beside him, the dwarf leaning against his axe and watching the boats being loaded with supplies. "At least you elves don't sink when you hit the water."

"I suppose it's lucky for you then, that you will have two elves in your boat should you fall overboard." Torwen quipped from behind them, eliciting a deep rumble of laughter from Gimli.

Legolas busied himself with checking clasps on packs, ensuring bedrolls wouldn't be lost with movement. Anything to keep from having to face the green eyes of the elleth behind him.

They had been gliding along the glassy surface of the Anduid for nearly three hours, all quiet around them besides birdsong and the chatter of the Hobbits. Frodo and Sam shared a boat with Aragorn, while Merry and Pippin entertained Boromir with tales from the Shire in their own vessel.

Torwen sat, knees to chest in the front of their boat, gazing ahead for any sign of something amiss as the dwarf behind her grumbled and complained about the movement of the boat they travelled in. Eventually Legolas was able to distract their companion by asking him about Gimli's mysterious gift from the Lady Galadriel.

The dwarf hemmed and hawed for a moment and when Torwen spied a look at him over her shoulder, she was surprised to see he was blushing. Grinning, the elleth turned back to once again cast her gaze ahead of them.

"I asked her for a single hair from her golden head." The dwarf admitted gruffly. "She gave methree." He continued, in a dreamy whisper that Torwen never would have thought the short man capable of.

"A special gift, indeed." Legolas acknowledged from the back of the boat where he was dipping the oar into the quiet waters of the river. "Hair is quite the intimate gift in our culture, Gimli."

It was Torwen's turn to blush furiously, and she hoped that Legolas could not the tips of her pointed ears turning crimson beneath her ginger curls.

"Torwen, would you sing us a song?" Pippin asked from the next boat over.

Thank Eru for those little Hobbits and their distractible natures. And so they spent the rest of their day rowing down the Anduin, all taking turns singing songs. A few Torwen recognized, but many she did not. A testament to how far apart their races had drifted.

*You should get some rest. I can take the last of the watch.*

Torwen glanced up at the pale haired ellon and pursed her lips. She had managed to avoid him for most of the evening, having snuck away to gather mushrooms and other edible vegetation as well as managing to bag a few hare on her way back. The Fellowship had dined well that night, saving the lembas bread that had been packed into their boats for another time. Now she had been perched on this log on the rocky shoreline for hours, ears pricked to catch the sounds of the forest behind her and sharp eyes watching the river and opposite shore.

*It is you that needs the rest, friend. You were rowing all day.* Torwen argued, crossing her arms over her chest as she returned to gaze to the opposite shore.

Something was casting her heart into darkness, twisting her stomach into knots. This was not the undulating darkness of the ring that constantly poked and prodded at her mind. This was the uncomfortable weight of dread. A steady feeling of foreboding that the elleth had not been able to shake since they had pushed the boats to shore late in the afternoon.

Legolas said nothing, simply settling himself onto the log next to Torwen and she found herself inching closer. The elleth took comfort from his silent, simple strength. Legolas settled his bow upon his thighs, quiver propped against the log at his feet within easy reach.

*I feel it too. This shadow that has cast itself upon us so suddenly.*

Torwen huffed a sigh and stole a glance at the ellon beside her. His brows were drawn together with concern as his blue eyes scanned the distant shore. She fought the sudden urge to smooth the ridge on his brow with her lips. To distract herself, the elleth plunged a hand into the pocket of her tunic, smoothing fingers over the wax of the bowstring that still rested there. Inhaling a steadying breath through her nose, Torwen curled her fist around the stand and withdrew it from her pocket.

*Legolas? I-* She stuttered to a stop when the prince turned his sharp blue gaze onto her.

This wasLegolas. Why was this so difficult? It was simply meant to be a token of friendship. Nothing more.

*Torwen?* Legolas murmured, brows drawing in further.

The elleth coughed to clear her throat, tucking wild flaming hair behind her ear with one hand and trying to ignore how the sound of her name from his lips sent something warm blazing low in her stomach.

*I… Well… Here.* She finally managed, dropping something small and lightweight into his lap before abruptly standing to her feet and striding to her bedroll, laying down with her back to the shore and to the blonde ellon.

Legolas was left bewildered, gently pulling a bowstring made of hair the color of fall leaves through his fingers.

A/N: I have many number of excuses for why I've been gone for so long but I'll spare you from most of them. The two most important ones are as follows: About a week after the last time I posted, my computer died. I had 6 unposted chapters of this fic saved there and nowhere else. Needless to say, it was a blow and I was too angry to rewrite for a while. Second, it's wintertime. Any of you that have grown up on any sort of farm know that everything goes wrong in the wintertime and that's what's been happening over here.

So, sorry again. I'll try to post again soon but I'm still trying to rewrite what I lost and keep up with the farm work. I've also been sketching out a couple of other fics on paper and will likely start writing those soon as well. One is a Draco Malfoy fic and the other is a Din Djarin/Mandalorian fic. If you have a preference for either of those, let me know in a review!


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